


locked in (your heart)

by trexzila



Category: ATEEZ (Band), K-pop
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, First Kiss, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, basically they get locked in the locker rooms bc they’re both dumbasses, i almost died while writing this, its not that angsty tho i promise, lots of kissing it was real fun to write lmao, slight homophobia, wait fuck i forgot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-30 10:24:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19851196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trexzila/pseuds/trexzila
Summary: And without hesitation, right then and there, their lips met. Wooyoung wasn’t sure who kissed who first but he couldn’t bring himself to care. It was blasting Bruno Mars and he was talking about being rich and treating his girl when both of the boys were having their first real kiss.OrIn which two boys are forced to spend time with together for being locked in and maybe fall a little.





	locked in (your heart)

“Check the door.”

“I did.”

“Do it again.”

“I ju- I’m doing it right now!”

“Well, do it harder then!”

The slap of metals echoed through the room when Wooyoung let the doorknob go with a harsh movement. “We went through this,” he whisper-yelled to keep himself from actually yelling, “about five minutes ago. It’s not hard to understand; it’s,” he shook the pale grey door by its knob “locked!”

The other boy was sprawling over the benches with his elbow propped up to support his head. “Wow,  _ geez _ ,” he muttered as he let his hand fall and placed his head on his arm. “Someone’s cranky,”

It was almost half-past four and they were locked in the locker room which was humid and left with the odour of sweat for being used after the last PE lesson of the day. It was his fault, really, offering to stay late and clean the sports hall was a stupid move to do. Especially when he acted like he had all the time in the world and forgetting to ask someone to  _ not  _ lock the doors. Wooyoung had first thought he was left alone when he realised he was locked in. He still wishes he was, at least he wouldn’t have had to deal with the annoying boy who seems to be careless with the entire situation. 

“You know it’s not healthy to be stressed all the time,” the boy continued with a Cheshire grin “You should loosen up sometimes,” 

Wooyoung was praying to every single deity he could think of, for them to give even the slightest bit of will to not commit murder right here and there. Except he wasn’t really a religious man, so the list only consisted of Percy Jackson references. 

“You want me to loosen up?” his voice was incredibly high, and he was sure almost every single drop of blood was rushing to his head. “I’m  _ so  _ sorry but can you- can’t you see what’s happening? Like, are you, like,  _ fine _ with being locked in?” _ ‘Don’t you have places to go?’ _ was sitting at the tip of his tongue but he considered it wouldn’t be the politest thing to say. He didn’t really want to hit a nerve and make his possibly only human interaction for the next ten hours hate him. 

A sigh echoed in the pale room, “Well,” he sat up straight, or actually leaned back on his hands with his left shoulder supporting the side of his head “Don’t you own a phone, smartass?”

Wooyoung checked his back pocket of his pants to swipe his phone up.

No signal.

He harshly stuffed the device back to his pocket, “No signal,” he whined.

“Well, yeah,” the boy said as if he couldn’t believe the other’s stupidity. He probably really couldn’t. “Didn’t you know about this? This place’s like a dead zone.”

“Then,” his scoff paused the flow of the sentence, what the actual  _ fuck _ was happening? “why are- why did you even sugge-”

A teasing voice interrupted his rambling, “I mean, don’t you ever sneak out of class?”

Sneak out? That’s the dumbest thing he’s gotten out of the black haired boy in the entirety of five minutes. Wooyoung _ hated _ dealing with people when they were cranky or disappointed, especially old men who didn’t even have their life together but still thought counseling a bunch of seventeen-year-olds was a good idea. He also didn’t suck up to the teachers when unnecessary but he did his best to attend every single class, even PE, to gain their sympathy and make up for the lack of good grades. That’s why he was stuck here, after all. “Um, no?” it came out as a question without his will, “Do you?”

The boy shot him a funny grin that almost said  _ ‘You think?’  _ He had cute eyebrows, Wooyoung decided. Cute nose and dimples. 

The list of things he knew about the mystery boy consisted of him being annoying, heedless and  _ kinda _ cute. His name would be the cherry on top of this little row of information.

“So,” he sat on the short edge of the bench, “you gonna ask my name or what?” cute boy demanded. He sounded bored, almost offended. 

_ Huh?  _ “You didn’t ask mine,” Wooyoung crossed his arms and gave his weight to his left leg, making his hip pop up. 

“You didn’t ask mine either,”

“Yeah, but get this- none of us asked each other,”

“I kinda thought you’d be the gentleman here,”

“You- ugh! You’re so annoying,” Wooyoung made a mental note to bolden the  _ annoying _ in his mental list as he sat on another bench next to the boy’s, positioning his body so they could face each other. He couldn’t believe he was giving up this easily and he hated himself for it. His only solace for the moment was the thought of the boy shutting up and  _ maybe  _ he could find a way out or at least do his work in blissful silence.

Their knees were almost touching if it wasn’t for the gap between them. Metaphorically and physically. He mentally laughed and gave himself a high five for the thought. “I’m Wooyoung,” he finally stretched his hand and the involuntarily stretch of his lips was making him seem friendlier than he intended, “Jung Wooyoung.”

“ _ Wow _ ,” the boy was leaning on his knees with his elbows now, bringing his face closer to Wooyoung’s, “Five minutes in and already making James Bond references?” He took Wooyoung’s hand. It was big but incredibly soft and decorated with rings. Almost delicate. Kind of fragile. “Hope I won’t end up like his one-night stands,” he wiggled his eyebrows. 

And there it goes. “Dude, just,” Wooyoung let out with a sigh, they were having a moment for god’s sake. “just shut up,”

“Okay, okay. Geez,” the boy said with a roll of his eyes. Wooyoung still didn’t know his name. “I’m Choi San, by the way, el oh el” he said with a cheeky grin. 

San, huh? It was cute, would roll off his tongue easily. He briefly wondered how his name would sound on the other’s. 

_ Wait, what the fuck? _

He coughed a few times to forget or at least be distracted from his thoughts, he’s not going through  _ that  _ again. Not ever, no way. “Okay, cool, nice. I mean-” he coughed again, “Never use abbreviations irl again,”

San’s face was frozen for a second, implying his surprise, then broke out into a grin with a shy giggle escaping his lips. He was so cute. “Whoopsies,” he said in between giggles and started playing with their interlaced fingers. Wooyoung hadn’t even noticed they were still locked together. “I mean you also just said ‘irl’ so,” he trailed off with his tongue tracing over his lips. 

Over the years, Wooyoung realised he becomes aware of completely different things then the matter at hand at the worst times possible. Aware was, of course, his replacement word for  _ distracted _ . He tried to distract himself from being distracted by the annoying slash cute boy’s actions.

“So Wooyoungie- Can I call you Wooyoungie? I’m calling you Wooyoungie,” San started having a conversation by himself, not bothering to hear the answer to his question. “Don’t you have like, I don’t know, aren’t your parents or something waiting for you?” San asked, actually waiting for the response now. He had started to turn their hands and inspect them as if they were the most interesting thing in the world. 

“Well,” Wooyoung propped up his elbow on his knee and leaned on his palm, copying the other’s position. “I could say the same about you,” his gaze lingered on San’s face. His eyelashes were long and their shadows sat prettily on his skin. His cheekbones were high and sharp, making his cheeks seem stretched. Wooyoung realised he had cat-like eyes when San lifted up his gaze and made eye contact after letting out a questioning sound. 

“Aw look at you,” San cooed, “were you staring?” He dropped his unoccupied hand and started to shake their interlocked ones faster. “How cute,” he landed the final blow.

Meanwhile, Wooyoung’s brain was making a short circuit, trying and failing to defend that he, in fact, wasn’t staring. “No, what? No, I’m not” he spurted out, gaze frantically focusing on one tile to another. He hoped his face wasn’t as red as it felt. “That’d be weird haha. I’m just- I meant, uhm, you just seem like you don’t care, y’know?” he managed to change the topic with his comically pitched voice. He couldn’t wrap his head around why he was so embarrassed or why the other’s gaze made him feel so small now. He hated it. 

“Okay, whatever you say,” San started with a grin, “And I actually stay with my grandparents,” 

“Oh,” 

_ “Oh  _ fuck _ ,”  _ Inner-Wooyoung screamed _ , “I fucked up.” _

San’ eyes crinkled as if he could sense what Wooyoung was thinking. “It’s okay, my parents passed away when I was six or something, you didn’t say something bad,” he stopped for a second “Yet,” he gleamed, “They don’t have to worry though, I told them I’d stay with a friend.”

Wooyoung saw the way San’s face softened and focused on their hands. “Won’t they get worried?” he tried, “I mean the friend. Maybe they can get us out?” The moment those words left, he found himself regretting it. It was stupid but he noticed he hated the idea. Sure, he didn’t want to spend the rest of his day locked in a locker room but his company was quite nice. He wondered what San would think of him if he knew this. Probably would call him a creep and never even look at his direction again. Oh well.

A bitter chuckle cut his thoughts, “Well,” San started, “there isn’t really a friend.” he let their hands go with this and started rubbing up and down his arms. Wooyoung tried to seem less disappointed as his now heated up hands met with a wave of cold air.

_ “Pull yourself together,” _ he scolded himself,  _ “No one wants to go through the second year again,” _

“Wait,” Wooyoung said when he finally recovered, “what do you mean there’s no friend? Where were you going?” Wooyoung hoped this had nothing to do with drugs or something, he was just starting to warm up to the guy. 

“It’s not drugs or something,” San said while playing with his hands and a sly smile danced on his lips. Wooyoung was really getting creeped out about how San could almost detect anything he was thinking. There were two options he could think of: he was either a mind reader or…

That’s it. He’s probably a mind reader. 

So the list was now: cute, weird, nice, mind reader, hopefully kind enough to let Wooyoung touch his dimples. 

“Don’t worry about it, I was gonna go out drinking and stuff,” he still had the same expression on him and at this point, he wasn’t sure if San was referring to drugs or the mind reader stuff. “What about you?” 

_ What? _

“Huh?” he said, ever so intelligently. Was he asking if Wooyoung was a drug dealer?

“I meant, like, your parents or something. No one’s expecting you?” he still looked so amused, though Wooyoung couldn’t bring himself to care. He looked adorable when he smiled with all teeth and stuffed his hands under his legs. He’s like a child, Wooyoung inspected. The way he was swinging his legs and slightly lifting his shoulders up every time he laughed. They had met only about an hour ago or so, but Wooyoung was starting to feel a deep affection towards the black haired boy. The red strikes in his hair became more observable every time he moved his hair and let the artificial dim lights of the room lick the space around him. He looked as if he had a halo behind him. As if he illuminated light from solely existing.

It was scary. He was scary. And also incredibly annoying.

Wooyoung lifted his feet up to connect them with the bench and wrapped his arms around it. “They’re on a trip,” he said. His voice sounded muffled and the way his cheek were squished against his knees were making him sound like he was pouting. There wouldn’t be much of a difference if he was sitting properly, he didn’t really like this topic. “They’re probably overseas or something. I don’t really care, neither do they.” 

His relationship with his parents wasn’t always this bad. They actually had something what people would call normal until they found out he was gay. They were never  _ close  _ but this part of Wooyoung they had found out was going to prevent them from being like that for what seemed to be a long time. They hadn’t kicked him out or treated him any less and Wooyoung actually considered being a believer so he could thank God and pray him to keep it that way. But at the same time, both of their friends suddenly took interest in them and decided to hang out for hours after work, at weekends or whenever they could when they should’ve been home, alongside their business trips which seemed to be happening every other week now. 

In front of him, San made a soft sound, as if he wanted to console him, but didn’t know how to.

“It’s okay,” Wooyoung lifted his head and smiled, “So, uhm, what’re we gonna do now?” He checked his phone again to see the time and also to lift the tension weighted down on them. It was almost five. “It’s almost five,” Wooyoung echoed out loud, “Do you have homework or?” he questioned as made his way to his bag which was on the other side of the room, left abandoned against the door.

“Please don’t make me,” he heard San whine, “Do we really have to?” 

“I mean you don’t,” he snorted, “but I gotta,” he squatted down to dig up his textbooks. “I don’t wanna leave any unfinished business.”

He met with a weird look on San’s face when he straightened up. His eyebrows were furrowed and eyes wide. He was smiling oddly, his expression was a mixture of amusement, horror, and constipation. “Why’re you talking like a gang leader?” his voice was pitched but the sound of his smile had flowed in, making his act break. 

“Gangs are so cool,” Wooyoung commented as he balanced the textbooks on his arms. “Would like to be in one of them,”

San stopped stifling his giggles with this, “We should open a gang,”

“Open a gang?”

“Yeah, shut up,” 

“What does open a gang even mean” he muttered, not wanting San to hear him.

But he still did, “Shut  _ up _ ,” Wooyoung was glad he was away from San because he was almost sure he’d be hit when he was saying that. “We’d be,” San continued, “we’d be called…”

“Cool kids?” Wooyoung suggested, still finding the entire situation ridiculous. 

“Kool Kidz!” San’s high voice echoed against the walls, “With a k and z,”

“With a k and -” Wooyoung squatted down again from wheezing too hard. “Kool Fellaz,”

It was now San’s turn to repeat and break into a stomach clutching laughter and then add something else. Their little competition had to come to an end with a tie when San started to cough from laughing too hard and didn’t stop for about five minutes. The humid room was filled with serenity and voices of two boys still giggling and catching their breaths. 

It didn’t last long when San turned his head to meet Wooyoung’s gaze, “Say,” he started, “Why are you here?” 

Wooyoung, being the dumbass he is, started doing what he does the best: playing dumb. “What do you mean?” 

“Like, why the fuck are you locked up?” his eyebrows were crinkled slightly and the corners of his lips were turned upwards. “I kinda fell asleep while waiting for the class to end so it’s on me,” he said slyly and scratched the tip of his nose. “And no one even woke me up,” he pouted, “People are so rude. Those fuckers,” 

Wooyoung snorted at that, “Felt that,” he commented. He was actually trying to gain time so he wouldn’t have to explain that he, in fact, was late because he was so busy sucking up to the coach. “And I um- I was kinda sucking up to the coach?” He finished with a question.  _ “So long for not explaining huh?”  _ Inner-Wooyoung said. He’d want to say something cool like ‘Oh I was smoking weed and didn’t notice the bell.’ or ‘Well y’know- having an orgy and stuff. No biggie. Just being cool and jizz’ 

When San snorted Wooyoung wondered if he had read his mind again or it was for the actual cause. “Nerd,” he commented ever so politely. “It’s gonna sound  _ kinda _ creepy but I think I’m glad we’re locked in,” he said and averted his gaze to some spot on their yet again tangled hands. “Like, you’re cool I guess,” He finished his confession with a small voice.

Wooyoung couldn’t help but smile. His train of thought was a mess of praising San for how cute he is and wanting him to stop because he really didn’t want feelings involved. Well, maybe just a tad bit.

Their conversation flowed easily after Wooyoung rested his head on the other’s shoulder and replied with “Yeah I guess you’re cool too,” The two boys continued talking about nothing and everything at once and bickering now and then until the dust in the small, suffocating room settled down. 

It was nearing eight o’clock when they were sitting on the ground side by side, necks supported by the benches and Wooyoung was laughing too hard at some silly thing San had said. “Okay, okay, okay. Shut up now,” he pouted while continuing to hold up three fingers. “Everyone has locked themselves to their closet to scare their moms and peed themselves because they actually got locked. Besides, why are you so specific?” He hit Wooyoung’s arm rapidly when he didn’t stop, “Shut  _ up _ !” 

Wooyoung slapped his leg one last time before he sat up straight to meet the other’s gaze. “Okay,” his voice was wobbly from laughing for a long time. “Your turn, shoot.”

“Never have I ever,” San trailed off, “Hm, never have I ever kissed someone,” 

Wooyoung rolled his eyes with that, “Seriously?” he lowered one finger, “You wanna win this bad?” he added when he saw San sitting proudly with his three fingers in the air. “And you seriously want me to believe you’re a kiss-virgin?”

“A kiss-virgin?”

“Someone who’s never kissed before. Duh.” 

“No, I got that- you know what, nevermind,” San ended his sputtering with a sigh. He leaned his head on his forearm that was bent on the bench. “Tell me then,”

“Oh no,” Inner-Wooyoung panicked for god knows what time of the evening. It really wasn’t how he planned this conversation to go. People were usually embarrassed or maybe filled with nostalgia when retelling their first kiss, but Wooyoung? Wooyoung was terrified. The sole memory was filled with everything bad, with every single bad feeling. 

“You don’t have to tell me, you know,” San said gently, his hand has found his way to the other’s knee. He was so gentle with everything and the way his lips formed a pout when he softened his voice was affecting Wooyoung more than it should. His head was filled with the _ ‘Trust him’ _ s from Inner-Wooyoung and the objections from his logical side. Oh well, Wooyoung was never the one with rationality.

“So in the second year,” he started unsurely, ignoring San’s recommendation. “I, uh, there was this… this  _ person  _ that I liked,” San made a humming sound at that. “And apparently they liked me too, and we’ve been dating for say… a couple of weeks. Maybe two, I’m not really sure. Whatever so we’re dating right and everything’s fine, Gucci even.” 

He  _ heard _ San cringe, “No,” he looked like he was about to puke, “Never say that again,” 

Wooyoung rolled his eyes that were starting to burn, “Party pooper,” he muttered and his hand unconsciously picked the skin of his neck. “And like one day, after his game - he was a, he was a footballer- he dragged me behind the bleachers and voilà! He looked like he was gonna kiss me! And he did! But then uh,” he wandered off from his rambling, his head was bowed down to inspect his fingers thoroughly while he played with them. “And um, well that part’s funny,” he let out a dry chuckle, “He kinda started shoving me and stuff and his friends came and they called me some stuff and um,” Wooyoung felt his eyes burning from recalling. For some reason he couldn’t comprehend, this was even worse than explaining to the counselor. Maybe the desire of getting him out of his life and into trouble dulled the fear or maybe the fact that he was opening himself up to basically a stranger and being this vulnerable made him scared. Whatever it was, it frightened him. Frightened and grounded. 

He felt San’s reaction before he heard it. A clammy hand wrapped around his wrist, holding a tad bit too tight. “What do you mean,” he looked like he was about to burst a vessel. “What do you mean they shoved you - where are they now?” he demanded abruptly, “Who are they?” 

Wooyoung was taken aback by the sudden question. That wasn’t really the reaction he was surmising. “I’m uh, they’re gone don’t worry,” he said in a once again wobbly voice. It was almost ridiculous how the mood in the stuffy room had changed this much, this fast. He heard San snort, “Did you assassinate them or something?” he said as he leaned into Wooyoung with his hand on his knee, burning his skin through the soft fabric.

God hated Wooyoung, he really did. Because just when he had  _ finally  _ recovered, he met this boy. “You’re so dumb,” his heart was beating fast and it actually  _ ached _ . He placed his hand on top of San’s and slotted his fingers between his. 

“You love me,” San said with a coy smile and turned his hand so they’d be locked together. 

Or maybe God loved Wooyoung so very incredibly much to go as far as to take Wooyoung next to him right that moment. “Unfortunately, yeah,” he turned his head to make eye contact with him. That was his first mistake. “I kinda do,” 

He saw San’s eyes widen and he felt his hands become even sweatier than before. He averted his gaze and his mouth was opening and closing just like a fish. He looked as if he wanted to say something, to ask something. “So, what happened to them?” he finally settled on.

Wooyoung wasn’t sure if the question was his first intention, but he decided not to query anymore. They had been sent away, only from school though. For a couple of weeks, they continued to harass him verbally; at the streets, after his dance practice and school or whenever they came across him. That is, until Wooyoung couldn’t handle it anymore and fixed upon saying ‘fuck it’ to everything his mother alongside his preschool experience has taught him and resorted to violence. Needless to say, his face was swollen with bruises for days and he still has a small wound resembling a cross at his shoulder -the work of one of the boys’ pocket knife-. That didn’t matter though for he has won. Both physically and mentally.

Wooyoung never understood why they  _ despised _ him so much. It was the spectacular work of society and the homophobic thoughts it has imposed on as kids but Wooyoung could never and probably  _ would _ never understand how being in love with a person can make others lose it.

“You have a battle wound?” San questioned and met with a nod. “That’s so fucking cool,” Wooyoung lowered his head to hide his embarrassment and the smile that started to bloom on his face. “Shut up,” he muttered without even meaning it. 

San’s fingers found their way to Wooyoung’s hair at his nape and they burned ever so sweetly where their skin met, “Tell me if someone bothers you again, okay?” his eyes were cast down to Wooyoung’s lap to avoid direct eye contact. “I’d say I won’t let anyone hurt you but,” his hand dropped to Wooyoung’s shoulder, where his wound rested. “I think you handle fights pretty well,” he grinned slightly as his fingers traced vague patterns on the cloth. 

Wooyoung maintained silent since he was afraid his voice would break, so he just nodded. He turned away his head to face the slightly oxidized door and nodded. After what felt like forever, but in reality wouldn’t have been more than a minute, Wooyoung turned to meet San’s gaze. His hand was cupping Wooyoung’s neck again and his thumb was moving up and down on the side of it, bumping his earrings every now and then. 

“My turn now,” Wooyoung grinned and brought up his fingers. “Get ready to get fucked up,” 

After rows of embarrassing moments shared Wooyoung has added more things to his list, such as cute, thoughtful, would tap 10/10, dog person, maybe not that annoying, loves dancing, don’t ever let him cook, has to treat food for a month if he doesn’t wanna get exposed.

His thoughts on ‘not that annoying’ changed drastically when San forced him to show him the latest choreography he has learned. Wooyoung, of course, didn’t dance the latest one, his dance crew was going to attend a tournament in summer with that performance. And as much as he trusted San, he didn’t feel like losing a competition that hasn’t even started yet. So here he was trying to convince San to not ruin a choreo.

“No, no stop,” San said for what felt like the hundredth time. “If we don’t _ ‘woah’  _ what’s the point of making a choreo ourselves?”

“San, we’re not making it, we’re dancing to fucking Fake Love,”

“Yeah but you can still add it, like, think about it,” San moved from his position in front of the benches that were pushed aside to create enough space for them. He took Wooyoung’s phone and let the chorus blast through the speakers. “See there’s a part where you can do it.  _ Love you so bad, _ ” he moved his arms and vibrated his body when the movement stopped “ _ Woah _ ,”

Wooyoung felt his vision getting blurry from the pain he was in. “I hate you so much,” He brought his hand in front of his eyes to shield them from seeing the embodiment of embarrassment and to create a dramatic effect. “Give me my phone,” 

“You don’t hate me,” San teased, resting his back to the benches from his place on the ground. 

“I do. So much. It literally hurts,” He plopped down next to him and buried his nose in San’s hair when he placed his head on top of Wooyoung’s shoulder. “Now give me my phone,” he muttered, not really caring about the phone but determined to fight the sleepiness that came onto him. 

There was a wave of heat radiating through San, and it wasn’t just from dancing for almost an hour. It was something that made Wooyoung feel like he could go up in space and touch the Sun, but it wouldn’t burn even the slightest compared to San’s hands. 

The boy next to him had an actual heart of warmth, and Wooyoung was trying his best to benefit from it to keep him that way. 

“I wanna see your playlists though,” San murmured and Wooyoung just placed his thumb absently and closed eyed. He just wanted his pillow to shut up and sleep.

He shuffled through songs for a while, commenting every now and then. Saying “God this  _ slaps _ ,” or “Oh my  _ God  _ she should’ve sticked to being a mainstream pop artist. What the fuck is she even doing?” And after listening to classical rock and 2000’s emo songs and then Shrek soundtrack, they were listening to That’s What I Like.

“No please,” Wooyoung whined when he realised they were listening to Bruno Mars. “I can’t sleep with this,” he wrinkled his eyes and buried his face to the space between San’s shoulders and neck.

“Don’t sleep then!” San chimed and swayed with the rhythm of the song. “It’s only,” he lifted Wooyoung’s phone to check the time. “It’s only ten,” 

Wooyoung threw his head back with a groan. “Easy for you to say, you’re always so energetic,” He met with the image of San mouthing the lyrics and hopping on his place when he lowered his head. 

“Come on, you love this song,” he whined “ _ Lucky for you that’s what I like,”  _ he shimmied his shoulders with the rhythm and got close to Wooyoung, poking his chest with his finger. “ _ That’s what I like,”  _

Wooyoung grabbed San’s finger when the poking too harsh to handle. “Okay, okay stop,” he laughed and laughed more when he heard San join him. He opened his eyes when both of them stopped and found another pair staring back. 

And without hesitation, right then and there, their lips met. Wooyoung wasn’t sure who kissed who first but he couldn’t bring himself to care. It was blasting Bruno Mars and he was talking about being rich and treating his girl when both of the boys were having their first  _ real _ kiss. 

Wooyoung felt his heartbeat on his lips and fingertips, where he was touching the other boy. It was innocent, just a pair of lips moving around and absorbing each other’s heat. San’s eyelashes were giving him butterfly kisses and Wooyoung found himself smiling into the real kiss. 

“Stop smiling,” San muttered against his lips. “I’m trying to kiss you, please cooperate,”

And with that Wooyoung burst into a full blown laughter, a lively one, one with genuine happiness. He felt San falling onto him when he swayed backwards, still laughing. 

“Stop,” San’s voice was hoarse but still light with joy. “We’re gonna fall, stop,” he giggled and Wooyoung kissed him again. He kept pecking his lips and cheeks and nose until his back met the ground and San was on top of him, his forearms resting on the ground to support his weight. 

They stood like this for a while. San gave up on planking and laid his body delicately on top of Wooyoung, who was holding the boy’s face as soft as he could as if his teeth wouldn’t hurt him but his fingers would. 

They broke away when they both felt like they couldn’t breathe anymore. “So,” San said from his place on Wooyoung’s chest. The room was silent if not for their breathing and the sound of their blood buzzing through their veins. Wooyoung’s phone was probably dead. “Wanna go again?” 

Wooyoung slapped San’s shoulder blade slightly. “Shut up, I’m gonna die if we keep up,” he rubbed the spot he hit just like how a dog would lick their owner’s hand when it bit them a little too hard. “So,” he started and trailed off.

“So,” San brought himself up. “Can I take you out this friday?” 

“Take me out?”

“Yeah, I mean you’re pretty cool and a good kisser and kinda cute so I don’t know,” he mumbled and played with the hem of Wooyoung’s shirt. “That is if you want to too. I mean you want to go too, like on a date, I mean -” 

Wooyoung pushed himself up to spare the boy from his misery and kissed him. “Friday’s cool. We’ll meet outside,” he held the smooth chin of the frustrated boy and gave him small pecks of kisses. “Or maybe you’ll pick me up from my class and we’ll go together,” he squeezed a kiss between every word which made very hard for San to focus and understand. 

He heard San muttering a “Yeah sure” and continued kissing him. When both of their bodies where starting to shut down from the fatigue they lay on top of the benches that they had brought next to each other. Wooyoung wasn’t sure what would happen in the morning or who would find them or what he was supposed to wear at his date or how he was going to explain this to his best friend Yeosang. He just knew he wanted to sleep with the boy in his arms.

Maybe God didn’t hate him that much, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> hi thanks for reading hehe. this is my first finished and published fic so pls be gentle. my twitter’s @/iluvsan69 if you wanna see more of my bs


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